


Long Nights

by cero_ate



Category: Captain America (2011), Marvel (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-18
Updated: 2012-06-18
Packaged: 2017-11-08 00:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/436989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cero_ate/pseuds/cero_ate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long nights lead to cuddling when Bucky is watching over an asthmatic Steve Rogers</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Nights

**Author's Note:**

> As always thanks to my amazing beta Pervyficgirl and Sullacat.
> 
> For the Cuddling Square at H/c bingo

The doctors had claimed Steve would grow out of it. That as he got older, if he got older, the asthma would go away and he’d stop being prone to every single illness that came through the orphanage.

Bucky was pretty sure the doctors were full of shit. Otherwise they wouldn’t be seventeen, with Steve having yet another wonderful night of asthma attacks. Whoever gave them doctors their degrees needed to be shot, along with whoever said that whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. That person needed some serious shooting too. Steve wasn’t getting stronger.

In his secret heart, Bucky was afraid Steve was getting weaker. Sure they didn’t come as often, but it almost seemed like those that got through were even worse. He didn’t know how much longer Steve’s body could handle these. Every time he got so much as a sniffle, his asthma flared up and it was all Bucky could do to hang onto him, to hold Steve to life with heart and hope. He gave Steve what food he could spare but he couldn’t give Steve everything. Bucky couldn’t waste away himself ‘cause no one else cared enough about the arty boy to stay awake these long nights, curled up in the same cot, holding Steve, making sure he stayed breathing.

Bucky knew sometimes they got looked at funny, but they were moving out just as soon as Bucky had enough saved. And Steve was gonna go to art school if it took everything Bucky made to do it. Them New Deal projects paid a bit, he could get in on those. Hell, Steve could, with the beautifying shit thing. He’d dig a million ditches if it got Steve and him outta this festering germ-filled pit. Steve worked when he could, he was a good clerk, but that wasn’t good either and it hurt Steve’s pride to be working for anyone else. Well ‘cept Bucky. Because it was him and Steve against the world. No matter what, if they had each other’s backs, they’d do okay. If they could just make it past the night, past the fever that clung to Steve, to the asthma that stole Steve’s breath away.

Bucky cuddled Steve harder, elevating his head by sticking it on Bucky’s chest, and rubbed and pounded Steve’s back, making him wake up to smoke the asthma cigarettes that had set their savings back again, but if Bucky didn’t, there’d be no reason to save money. Steve curled against him in between coughing fits, eyes wet with the force of them, trembling, but still so alive that it made Bucky’s own breath catch. 

Just one more night. They had to take each attack with just one more night, one more breath. Focusing on the now and all that shit. They couldn’t afford to go to the hospital again. The orphanage couldn’t afford anyone to even sit with them, which was probably why they let Bucky curl up with Steve, without any whispers about them being unnatural. Bucky didn’t care though, what they thought. Didn’t give a shit what weird ideas they had about Steve and him. 

Steve was his, plain and simple and Bucky would hold Steve to this life, protect him, hell, Bucky’d probably die for him, no matter what. It was Steve and Bucky against the world, all the way.


End file.
